In our English towns In our English towns The dogs they try to possess us I can hear their anguished cries They build towers of saddened ivory In our English
's meth man south paw I throw my left hand To that hardcore shit that even make the tec jam Oh my goodness trust me, ain't nuttin' like some hood shit Gotta love my dogs
took the throne He'd put the privileged on the streets And give the poor a home If the Irish were the English And the English still not free Would ya
forth fifth, I'm used to this shit, If I say it, I mean it, And I envy out clips, Like I do my own english Verse 2 (Keon Bryce) Fuck the police, Like
I remember thinking murder in the car Watching dogs somersault Through sprinklers on tiny lawns I remember the graffiti We are your children coming in
peace to the God Power for never fallin' for nothin' less Than a hundred grands and rap with rubberbands placed in Golden suitcases, slitted across the table To walk the dogs
that got out of Dodge Sucka on me cause the title I'm holding Eazy-E's fucked up and got the 8 Ball rolling Verse Three: Eazy-E Olde English 800
sees everything and smiles, and comprehends nothing, and dies - I see all around my head and that end. I have invented myself; I have created myself; I am just a form of dream English
grandma passing by, her face went into a pie. If I'm late there's misery, I won't be up on history, I'll be in the English grammar slammer, and
Words traditional English, music RW with fugal ideas by Chris Caswell 1978 Oak logs will warm you well That are old and dry Logs of pine will sweetly
heard The same birds singing You have stepped in hardened footprints Up where my shoes were mudded And I know we must have heard The same dogs barking
bodily function on a nigga when I rip My format pushes your entire crew into the floor mat You'll be needin pet cemetary to try and bring ya dogs back
the English muffin I still got respect in the flatbush junction, hey Huh, it's like we shakin' down a dude We like a pack of dogs that come to take
understand. And of the English armies, That marched in for to stay. Oh that night they wounded Old Ireland, And she's bleeding to this day. Their dogs
ojos La tina se llena de sangre, carne y sesos Satanas Brujeria Las leyes de dios no valen madre Pinche chivo de roma, tu culo (English Translation
sun don't pound Ohh, I hibernated in English turf Better believe it, I'm a stinker Burning vermin stink Watch me get as high as a heat wave honey Tell me what your hound dogs
Hockney prints Exclusive to Bloomingdales, gift-wrapped in red From the land of blue rinse They boggle at menus in Olde English verse 'Ode to a burger
Times are tough for English babies Send the army and the navy Beat up strangers who talk funny Take their greasy foreign money Skin shop, red leather